Slipper of Glass
by ashryverblue
Summary: "What if Cinderella was an assassin and went to the ball not to dance with the prince, but to kill him?" What if this assassin was named Celaena Sardothien? For the first time in her life, Celaena finds herself unable to kill her victim. With her heart tearing her in two, will her past, Aelin Galathynius, ever catch up to her? AU, Celaena never went to Endovier, Sam is alive.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One

 **Author's Note: Hey guys, this is my new Throne of Glass fanfic. It starts off like a Cinderella retelling in the Throne of Glass megaverse, but eventually it will move away from that and just become an AU Throne of Glass fic. This first chapter is quite short, but it's more like a kind of prologue thing anyway. My updates won't be regular, probably about every two weeks because I'm very busy with school. Thanks for reading!**

 **Disclaimer: Unfortunately for my ego, Sarah J Maas owns the Throne of Glass series and its characters, so all copyright is hers.**

The carriage stopped in front of the gates to the Glass Castle, and an eighteen year old girl stepped out into the night. The air was alive with the thrum of voices: the idle chatter of nobles, the gossip of lords and ladies. Celaena Sardothien stood, pausing outside the carriage doors. She adjusted her posture and arranged her facial features into the excited expression of a young court lady, fixing the last details of her mask into place. Yes, she must wear a mask for this ball, if she was to achieve her goal. She had to be the picture of elegance, innocence and beauty.

Celaena joined the line to get into the palace. She could immediately feel the eyes on her. Women giving her splendid ball gown admiring, envious glances and men enjoying the way the pale blue chiffon silk hugged her figure in all the right places. Her dress was exquisite, Celaena had to admit. The hem, cuffs, and daringly low neckline were all trimmed with white lace. It matched her turquoise eyes, the dressmaker had told her. The bodice, patterned with gold swirls and whorls, brought out the gold ring around her pupils and looked fantastic against her unbound hair, which was falling down her back and over her shoulders in honey blonde waves. Simple, yet stylish. It looked fashionable and it looked expensive: exactly the impression Celaena wanted. No one could have suspected that she was a living armoury. No one could have noticed the expertly concealed daggers strapped to her thighs and arms, sheathed at her waist, stuffed down her bodice and between her breasts. No one could have known that there was an assassin skulking in their midst.

She stepped up to the gates and handed her invitation to the guard on duty. Arobynn had acquired that for her. The guard examined her quickly before looking down at his list. "Name?" he asked. "Lillian Gordaina," she replied confidently. He didn't even look at her twice before ticking the fake name off his list and waving her in. She could thank Arobynn for that too. Celaena looked up at the glass castle, the heart of Adarlan's empire. It housed the man who had destroyed everything she had ever loved, and more importantly, his son. She took a deep breath, and passed through the gates. Celaena followed the crowds until she was in the entrance hall to the ballroom. There was a buzz in the air. She could hear the ladies whispering about Prince Dorian. He was supposed to be quite handsome. A pity, Celaena thought, as he wasn't likely to stay that way for long if she had her way tonight.

The ballroom doors opened and Celaena descended the steps. Heads turned in her direction. No one here would know her, which made her someone of interest. She glanced round the room, immediately noting where guards were positioned and where the prince was. She would have known Dorian anywhere. It wasn't just that she had caught glimpses of him parading through Rifthold before, rather it was something about the way he carried himself. He walked like a prince, his every movement and smile radiating with court polished charm. He was dancing with a tall brunette in a bright red dress that Celaena had to admire. The dance finished, and the prince moved on to dance with another lady. It would be all too easy to get close to him, Celaena thought, smiling to herself.

The ball itself was impressive. The musicians at the front of the hall were extremely talented. The music seemed to writhe and uncoil in the air like a living being. The food on the tables on both sides of the room looked glorious, and Celaena resisted the temptation to indulge herself. She was here to get a job done, and it was probably the most dangerous job she had ever taken on. Yet she was confident she could do it. She was Celaena Sardothien. She hadn't become Adarlan's Assassin for nothing. It would be worth it. It would be worth it just for the devastation it would bring to the king. It would be worth it just to take everything from him, the way he had taken everything from her.

The next part was easy. She literally just had to stand at the edge of the dance floor and look pretty. Some young man would approach her sooner or later. Most likely sooner, if the looks she had received in the foyer were anything to go by. Celaena sucked in a breath, put her shoulders back and stuck out her chest. She was ready for this. After ten long years of suffering, she could do this. She deserved this, and she would not be afraid.

The Captain of the Royal Guard watched the strange young woman glide across the ballroom. He watched her striking blue eyes take in all the details of the hall. He watched her stop at the edge of the dance floor, clearly waiting for a man to approach. It wasn't just that he had never seen the girl before. No, there were many foreign visitors tonight. She hadn't done anything especially suspicious. In fact, she seemed rather ordinary. She looked stunning, but not so much that she stood out from any of the other simpering young women here. She blended in perfectly. Too perfectly. He didn't know what it was, but there was just something about her that unsettled him. Chaol Westfall turned his attention back to Dorian. Dorian was the most important thing tonight. Still, he couldn't shake the feeling of unease, and he resolved to keep one eye on the stranger at all times.

Celaena danced. She danced with so many young men that she lost track of who they were, and all their faces began blurring into one. Her delicate glass heels chinked against the dance floor, as she was whirled around the ballroom on the arm of lords, dukes, courtiers and merchants' sons. But as of yet, no princes.

It was only a matter of time, Celaena told herself. Prince Dorian had already glanced at her a few times tonight. If she was catching his attention, he would be bound to approach her, sooner or later. Celaena was an accomplished dancer, thanks to the lessons she'd had with Madame Florine since she was a child, and she did look beautiful tonight. It filled her with a strange sense of excitement; to introduce herself to all these silly men as Lillian Gordaina, daughter of a merchant from Fenharrow. She enjoyed picturing what their faces would look like if they knew that she was Celaena Sardothien, the most feared assassin in all of Erilea. It was something of an adrenalin rush, to think that here she was, right under the royal family's noses, come to exact the perfect revenge after all this time.

Celaena stopped at the edge of the dance floor to take a breather. She was exhilarated, her heartbeat a steady thump in her chest. She had always loved parties. Celaena closed her eyes for a second, savouring the feeling of contentedness she got from being at a party like this, from taking part in a form of physical exertion that wasn't violent, where, for a moment, her beauty was not a weapon, but a gift. For a moment, she didn't think about the monumental task that faced her tonight; the task that would throw countless lives off balance, including her own. She did not think of Arobynn, or the mysterious man who had hired her tonight. She did not think of bloodshed, or pain, or fear. For a moment, she was no longer an assassin, she was a girl.

Celaena's eyes flew open as a hand lightly grazed her shoulder. She whirled, and found herself looking up into a pair of gorgeous sapphire eyes. "May I have this dance, my lady?" said Dorian Havilliard.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

 **AN: Hey guys, I'm sorry this took so long. I sort of had a writing block for a while but I'm back now and will try and keep to my previously stated fortnightly update schedule.**

 **Please leave a review telling me your opinions!**

Dorian stared down at the beautiful young woman. She was lovely, he had to admit. There was something about her teasing smile and the turquoise and gold in her eyes that had captivated him as soon he caught sight of her. He didn't know when, and he didn't know how, but he knew almost instantly that he had to kiss this girl.

The girl gave him one of those intoxicating smiles, and curtsied, "I would be honoured, Your Highness."

As they took their place in the centre of the dance floor, Dorian spoke, "Could I enquire as to what your name is, Lady…?"

"Lillian," she smiled slightly, "Lady Lillian. I come from Bellhaven."

"My name is Dorian. Prince Dorian Havilliard, although I'd bet you know that." Lillian just smiled, a twinkle of amusement in her eyes.

The dance started. Lillian carried herself with elegance and grace, and her golden hair was almost glowing in the candlelight. "And what brings you to Rifthold, Lady Lillian?"

She frowned as he spun her on his arm, "My father sent me here to seek a husband. I have not found any men who appease me as of yet."

"Ahh," said Dorian. "A lady of high standards, I presume."

Lillian smiled up at him coyly, the gold in her eyes sparkling as she regarded the prince through her long lashes, "I suppose you could say that."

They waltzed around the ballroom, each of them as adept at dancing as the other, and Dorian lost himself in the dance and the music. The dance ended and a new one began, but neither of them noticed, absorbed in one another. Dorian stared into her fascinating eyes as they danced together for longer than was deemed polite. The sparks flying between them were almost tangible.

After a while, they stopped dancing and stood together at the side. His hands were still at her waist, which wasn't quite socially acceptable now their dance was over, but Dorian was the Crown Prince, and he could do what the hell he liked. He would've kissed her, if only half of Adarlan's nobility wasn't watching.

"I'd like to spend a little more time with you, Lady Lillian."

She smiled suggestively, "I'd like that too, Dorian, very much," she purred. Calling him by his first name wasn't socially acceptable either, but he liked her for it.

He smiled and lowered his voice, telling her where she could meet him later. She licked her lips and smiled before taking her leave.

Celaena made sure she had lost the Prince in the crowd before contemplating her next move. The castle gardens were open to all ball guests tonight, she might as well scope them out for a few hours before she met with the prince.

Congratulating herself on successfully executing the first stage of her plan, Celaena gracefully walked through the glass doors to the garden, her glass slippers chinking against the floor.

Chaol cornered Dorian as soon as the ball was over. "You're not doing what I think you're doing."

Dorian just raised his eyebrows and kept striding down the glass hall, "Nice to see you too, Chaol."

"Dorian, I'm serious. Where are you going?"

"Where I am going is not your concern."

"I am Captain of the Royal Guard. Your safety is my concern."

"I can assure you, that I will be more than safe tonight, Captain."

Chaol grabbed his arm, "You're seeing that girl aren't you?"

"If you mean Lady Lillian, then yes. She's rather lovely, isn't she?"

"I don't like the look of her."

Dorian laughed, "You must have been the only man in the room to think so."

"Listen to me. She kept staring at you."

"You should find yourself a woman one of these days, Chaol. If I didn't know better I'd say you were jealous."

"I'm not jealous!" Chaol gritted his teeth in frustration. He didn't know what it was, but the girl had set alarm bells ringing when she'd danced with Dorian. The last thing he wanted was to pry into the prince's sex life, but he was so sure about this.

"Relax, Chaol. She's just a girl. What harm could she possibly do to me? Why don't you take the rest of the night off?"

Chaol sighed. "Alright, I'll see you in the morning then, I suppose."

"Goodnight, Chaol."

The captain watched Dorian walk off, still not quite at ease.

It was after midnight by the time the prince got there. Celaena was waiting in the shadows at the back of the castle, crouched in one of the lesser used walled gardens. The night was still warm, as it was the height of the Rifthold summer. When she caught sight of Dorian, she didn't move from her hiding place for a moment, staying concealed whilst she watched him. The prince gazed up at the stars, the moonlight illuminating his pretty face. He looked younger somehow, more open. Dorian was only nineteen, she knew. Too young to have all the responsibility of being heir to a continental empire.

And yet, Celaena herself was only eighteen, and some would say that was too young to be a trained killer.

The assassin emerged from the shadow, and smiled seductively at the prince.

His eyes lit up when he saw her, "Lillian."

He took a step towards her and she was in his arms again, "I missed you," he murmured.

"I missed you too."

Dorian opened his mouth to speak but Celaena put a finger to his lips to stop him. She ran her hands over his body and kissed him. This kiss wasn't like other kisses. With Sam, it had always been gentle and sweet, but with Dorian, all she felt was hunger and lust. Dorian's hunger for her body, and Celaena's bloodlust.

They just enjoyed the kissing for a while, exploring the sensation of mouth on mouth, tongue to tongue.

She ran her hands up the back of his shirt, caressing the rippled muscles of his shoulders. He kissed her neck, and she could feel his pulse pounding in anticipation. Celaena ripped his shirt off, running her hands over his bare chest. Her breath came in gasps and moans as Dorian's hands roamed freely up her skirt and down her bodice. The lust haze prevented him from noticing the arsenal of daggers strapped to her body.

Before Celaena really knew what was happening, they were on the ground, Dorian's body above hers, his teeth pulling the neckline of her dress lower and lower. This was moving faster than she'd expected. Too fast. As attractive as the prince was, she would prefer to kill him without having him fuck her first.

Panicked, she reached for the dagger strapped to her thigh, her other hand Dorian's rising higher up Dorian's inner thigh. He closed his eyes and gasped, distracted. Celaena moved her arm and dagger into position, the tip of the knife an inch above the soft, vulnerable skin between his shoulder blades.

It should have been easy from there. So simple, really, to literally stab him in the back, leaving the prince to bleed to death. But she made one fatal mistake. For the first time in her whole career, Celaena Sardothien hesitated.

She didn't know exactly why, but she froze in place. Perhaps it was just a moment of weakness, or perhaps it was something old and long forgotten inside her, some buried part of her being that knew that she had once been just like this boy; that he was innocent and killing him could not avenge all she had lost.

Later, she told herself it was nothing more than a momentary lapse, and a fluke coincidence that Dorian felt the sudden tension in her body and opened his eyes before she could regain herself enough to stab him.

He saw it in her eyes then: the cold centre beneath her warm, inviting body, and the lethal intent in her eyes.

In a split second, Celaena had flipped Dorian over so he was flat on the ground and she was springing to her feet. She dropped the dagger clumsily and Dorian swore loudly as it slashed his arm. Dorian screamed out for help, and Celaena knew at once that the guards would be here any second, and that she had no option but to run.

Chaol couldn't sleep. He had tried for what felt like hours before resolving to get up and take a stroll through the palace gardens. He was circling round the back of the castle when he heard Dorian's cry. Chaol jumped out of his skin, and started to sprint toward the sound at once, hoping against hope that there were other guards nearby. He was halfway there when he rounded a corner and collided with a blonde woman in a torn blue dress. She violently shoved him away from her and then sprinted in the opposite direction. It took him a second too long to realise that it was the girl from the ball, the girl who Dorian was supposed to be comfortably in bed with by now. He swore, wanting to go after her but knowing the prince was his first priority. Chaol swivelled round to turn back in the direction of Dorian, nearly tripping over what appeared to be a glass shoe left on the ground. IT must have belonged to the girl, he realised, and could be his only evidence. Chaol picked it up hastily and turned back towards the prince's shouts.

Celaena kept running until she hit the outer wall, which she vaulted over, realising she'd lost one shoe somewhere. Cursing her fancy clothes, Celaena doubled back on herself and headed towards the poorer district of Rifthold. She couldn't go back to the Assassin's Keep, not yet. She couldn't face Arobynn, not like this. She needed time to collect herself first, and think of some way of explaining her failure. Failure. The word made her stomach turn. She was Adarlan's Assassin, the best of the best. She was _Celaena Sardothien_ , and she didn't fail. Until now, it seemed.

Celaena didn't stop until she reached the slums.

 **Disclaimer: Sarah J Maas has copyright, obviously.**


End file.
